


Well, Would You?

by pintsizedrogue



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Drinking, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Making Out, Shane is a sunshine boy, excuse me sir that's my emotional support cryptid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 20:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pintsizedrogue/pseuds/pintsizedrogue
Summary: Buzzed boys Ryan & Shane flirt, and a magical couch has a couple tricks up its... cushions? But really, that's just Shane planning ahead.





	Well, Would You?

Even without glancing up, Ryan knows Shane is fixing him with one of his signature looks. A question perched on thin lips, quirked eyebrows ready to articulate specifics. The pair are a few drinks in, pleasantly buzzed as movie credits roll down the TV.

"Would you ever fuck a ghost, Ryan?"

"What?!" Ryan splutters and coughs. Shane has always had a knack for making him spit take. "How would that even work? Wouldn't a ghost have to have a cor- corporeal form or something?"

"Well, what about Bigfoot? He's real and he definitely has a physical body!"

Ryan wheezes, unable to contain his laughter. "You... You fucking weirdo! Is that why you're so obsessed with Bigfoot? Because you want to bang 'em?" Shane's smile breaks out into a snorting laugh, but quickly morphs into mock disgust.

"Wouldn't you?! But not if Bigfoot has a red rocket dick like dogs do. I have some standards." Shane takes another swig of his beer and flops dramatically back onto the couch. Giggles overtake Ryan as he watches lanky fingers move through a variety of lewd gestures.

"Dude, stop!" Ryan laughs. "That's so gross!" He quickly wedges his half empty beer bottle between his knees so he can bat at Shane's oversized hands. Shane ceases his lewd antics, hands falling back into his lap. Ryan’s hands follow, and in his beer-addled brain, he blames it on the buzz. He’s always more touchy when he’s drunk.

"Well, would you? Of course ghosts aren't really an option, since they don't exist." Shane pauses, grinning at the eyeroll this elicits from his ghost-hunting partner. "But Bigfoot... Now that's a whole other story. Come on, Ry guy, doesn't the idea of being swept off your feet by a big hairy cryptid do it for you?"

"Eh." Ryan falls back with a giggle, finally disentangling their hands. A look flashes across his friend’s face, but Ryan is too far gone to expend the energy to figure out what it means. "If I ever wanted to make it with a lanky, weird cryptid, I'd just do it with you!" A new fit of giggles overtakes him as Shane's eyes widen. He cracks a smile at the smaller man's antics and runs his hands through his mop of hair.

With a sudden surge of drunken energy, Ryan pops up off the couch. The music on the TV is playing some rock tune he vaguely remembers, and right now, he wants to dance. Why didn’t they go out tonight? He’s killing it with these moves! 

"Ryan-" It's uttered as a warning, one that Ryan is all too happy to blatantly ignore. He continues to shimmy, reveling in the goofy, sloppy movements. It's not often he lets himself go — sure, they banter and have fun most of the time, but this feels different. Unfortunately, the space between the coffee table and the couch is narrow, and is made even more treacherous by Shane's oversized socked feet.

Ryan trips on a foot that he was fairly sure isn’t attached to him before falling backwards onto the couch. It’s not until the couch lets out a pained "oof" upon landing that a thought drifts lazily into his mind. Ryan sits up with a jolt, causing his not-couch seat to groan once more. "Shit! Sorry dude, are you okay? I didn't mean to fall on you! Your feet are just so big and in the way!"

A hand pops out from behind him and provides a weak thumbs up. A mumbled response is spoken into Ryan's back as he lets out a wheezing laugh, hot breath sending a jolt down his spine. He shivers, and another muffled protest sinks into the fabric of his shirt. “Dude, hey, I - “ Ryan perks up as the credits soundtrack rolls over to a new song. “Oh, I love this song!” Without a second thought, still perched on Shane’s lap, Ryan begins to squirm. A generous person may call it dancing. His friend would have muttered a snarky comment if only he hadn’t been so focused on breathing while being trapped under Ryan’s weight. A few pained groans escape Shane as the so-called ‘dancing’ continues, the smaller man singing along. As he starts to croon the chorus, Ryan moves again and suddenly goes stock still. Was that...? Fuck! Does Shane have a hard on right now? He claps a hand over his mouth, afraid to turn around and look his friend in the eye. Ryan’s mind races as his own cock twitches, rather unhelpfully.

“Uh.. sorry, Ry. You were kinda squirming right on top of me. I tried to tell you…” Shane’s voice is soft and uncertain. Ryan’s drunken brain decides the best course of action without really consulting any logical thought process at all, and he is suddenly climbing off Shane's lap. The brunet barely has time to register the movement before he drops back onto Shane, knees poking into the couch on either side of the taller man's hips. The following kiss is inelegant, as they crash together, but it’s hot and wet and sweet.

Ryan paws at the hem of Shane’s t-shirt. It's still on and that is definitely a problem; he desperately needs skin to skin contact. He lifts up his head, opening his mouth to protest, only to find Shane already staring at him with a gentle smile tugging at his lips. Ryan stops his movement, holding the gaze. Shane lets out a sigh before he speaks.

“Ry guy, is this what you want?”

Ryan pulls his hands back to his sides, suddenly uncertain and embarrassed. “I mean… yeah, I kissed you, so…”

Long fingers nervously run through Shane’s dark hair. He squeezes his hand over his eyes, upsetting the clear framed glasses that usually perch on his nose. “I just mean… Fuck. I mean, do you want this right now? Just a hookup?”

His breath stolen, Ryan stares at his friend. His angular features are softened by the half dark, glasses askew, hair ruffled and sticking out at odd angles. Ryan never thought he’d be sitting on Shane’s lap, staring at his kiss-bitten lips. “What do you mean? I... I want you. I thought that was made pretty clear.” He gives a nervous giggle and rubs the back of his neck. Shane rests his hands on Ryan’s waist, long fingers embracing his body. Ryan instantly adores the feeling — he feels small, protected, contented. He never wants those hands to move away.

“I mean, do you…” Shane gestures vaguely. “Do you just want a one time thing? Or something more?” His voice falters and breaks as his eyes desperately search his friends face.

“M-more?” Ryan couldn’t help but stammer. More? The possibility of more than this, more than illicit kisses in the lambent dark, send his mind reeling. More. The word blossomed, conjuring images each more blissful than the last. Cuddling during movie nights, making popcorn together in the kitchen, holding hands whenever they wanted. Not just when Ryan was terrified in some haunted house.

“Yeah, like… Dating, I guess. Forget it, it’s stupid.” Shane squeezes Ryan’s waist, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just c’mere.” He leans forward to plant another kiss on the man’s lips but Ryan pulls back, scrambling to bring his mind to the present.

“Shane, I might be drunk, but I know what I want.” Ryan slings his arms around his friends neck, looking him in the eyes with what he hopes is an earnest expression. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since we started working together. I’ll.. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if-” A hiccup interrupts his train of thought, eliciting a quiet giggle from the nervous Shane. “Even if it’s only a hookup.”

“So… You would date me?”

Another hiccup. Maybe the drinks aren’t settling as well as Ryan hoped. “Yes, Shane. I have a big fat crush on you, and now you know. Please don’t hold it over my head just to taunt me,” he groans, dropping his head onto Shane’s shoulder. The hand on his waist suddenly disappears and Ryan almost whines at the loss of warmth. 

“You’re my Bigfoot,” he murmurs. A hand gently rakes through his mussed hair, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. Shane’s breath is hot on his neck as Ryan nuzzles in further, hoping to hide his flushed cheeks.

“You’re drunk, Ry.” Ryan can’t parse the tone of Shane’s voice. His head is fuzzy and swimming with too many thoughts. Too tired to argue further, Ryan closes his eyes, arms still drooped around Shane’s neck, and soon is fast asleep.

* * *

Ryan awakes to the sound of birds chirping, sunlight pouring through the cracks in the blinds, and an unfamiliar bed. Groggily, he surveys his surroundings. His pants are still on, which is a good sign. Was he still at Shane’s? He’d never seen his bedroom before, and this wasn’t really what he expected. It was so… soft. Weird. With a sigh, Ryan disentangles himself from the smooth cotton sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He finds his shirt neatly folded at the foot of the bed and pulls it on before heading to the kitchen.

The scene is so domestic that Ryan’s heart aches with want. He hovers unsteadily in the doorway, staring at Shane’s messy morning hair, the mist curling up from the very necessary mug of coffee on the table. A newspaper obscures most of his face, spindly fingers wrapped around the edges. God, who even reads the newspaper anymore? It was disgustingly Shane, not to mention disgustingly cute. Ryan reaches out a hand to steady himself on the doorframe, inadvertently alerting the other man to his presence.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Shane beams, folding and placing the newspaper on the table. “How’d you sleep?”

Ryan groans. How was he so goddamn cheery? “Like a rock, man. Did you… Did you put me to bed last night?”

“Sure did, buddy. You passed out on top of me on the couch. Couldn’t let you sleep there and ruin my back!” Ryan splutters, his eyes wide as Shane grins and laughs. “How much of last night do you remember?”

Hands over his beet-red face, Ryan groans again. Memories of the prior nights antics hit him like a freight train. Is it possible to die of embarrassment? Probably, based on the fact that his heart just dropped into his stomach. “I, uh… I think I should go,” Ryan mutters.

“Nonsense! I made breakfast!” Ryan peeks between fingers to see Shane brandishing a plate of eggs and bacon arranged into a smiley face. “Eat up! It’ll help you feel better!” Ryan lets himself be pushed down into a chair, looking anywhere but at Shane. “I have orange juice too!”

“Thanks, I guess…” Ryan grabs a fork and stares deeply into the smiling face on his plate. His stomach churns. Why isn’t Shane freaking out? They had kissed, hadn’t they? Or did Ryan dream it?

“Slow down, little guy.” Shane sits across the table, sipping his coffee. “I can hear the gears turning from here.” He cocks his free hand and points at his head.

“Sorry, I just… I remember doing a few things I maybe shouldn’t have last night.” Ryan says, speaking directly into his glass of orange juice. He still can’t meet Shane’s eyes.

“Nonsense!” Shane practically shouts, springing out of his chair. Ryan’s head pounds at the sudden noise, brow furrowing in pain. “Oh, sorry. Obviously you’re in no shape to go anywhere, so let’s watch another movie. Let me get some aspirin and meet me on the couch when you’re done!” The lanky man sweeps across the room, pausing only to plant a smacking kiss on Ryan’s forehead. Suddenly Ryan is alone in the kitchen, bewildered by Shane’s manic energy. His stomach reminds him of his hunger with an anguished growl, and he figures he could at least eat breakfast before attempting to figure out whatever this is.

When he finally enters the living room, Shane is perched on the edge of the couch, hands behind his back. Suspicious but intrigued, emboldened by breakfast in his belly, Ryan makes his way over to the couch in the same way one would approach a dangerous wounded animal. “Hey, uh, what’s behind your back there, Shane?”

Shanes smile increases in proportion to Ryan’s anxiety. He wasn’t going to tease him about last night, was he? Look, Ryan isn’t emotionally vulnerable very often, and of all people, Shane better not make fun of him for - oh.

“Is that a… stuffed animal? For me?”

“Well, I was going to save it for your birthday - but after what you said last night,” Shane beams, “I thought I’d give it to you now! It’s a little Bigfoot for my little guy!”

Ryan can’t help but wheeze with laughter. “Oh my god! It is a tiny little Bigfoot!” He takes another step forward and falls onto the couch, accepting the round fluffy plush from Shane’s hands. “Where did you find this? It’s so adorable!”

Shane giggles at Ryan’s near-squeals over the figure, cocking an eyebrow. “I have my ways…”

“Fuck off, man,” his friend laughs, giving Shane a gentle shove. “I love it, seriously. Thank you.”

Shane nods and pushes his glasses back up the brim of his nose. Silence falls over the living room as Ryan fidgets with the chin fluff on his new plush. When someone finally speaks, the pair speak at the same time - Shane laughs, and motions for Ryan go first.

“Oh, uh. I was just wondering where that aspirin is at? My head is really killing me, man.”

Shane produces a bottle from somewhere behind him. The couch must be teeming with undiscovered treasures if it’s produced both a gift and painkillers before 10 AM. After aspirin is administered and the bottle relegated to the coffee table, Shane is still perched on the edge of his seat, looking pensive. 

Ryan sips his orange juice and turns back to his friend. “So what were you trying to say, big guy?”

Shane’s hands flutter in his lap, eventually coming together only to pop apart and rest again, fingers spread on his thighs. He runs a hand through his hair, adjusts his glasses, and scratches his nose. Ryan’s no body language expert, but even he can feel the anxiety radiating off Shane in waves. Ryan makes a conscious decision to be brave, and places his own hand on his friend’s knee. The man’s eyes widen, but his hands still and it seems like Shane is finally ready to speak.

“Do you want to go out with me? Like, for dinner - I mean, a, uh, like a date?” Dark brown eyes search Ryan’s face, desperate to decipher every second of his reaction to this not-so-bizarre proposal.

“Oh! Uh, yeah.” Ryan immediately flushes, heat rising from his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah?” Shane is grinning now, and Ryan can’t help but laugh at how giddy he looks.

“Yeah, you doofus! You heard me last night, no need to be all dramatic about it.”

The taller man looks so pleased with himself that Ryan lobs his new Bigfoot plush right at his silly face. It’s caught deftly, and Shane takes the opportunity to scoot next to his friend - boyfriend? Ryan wonders, but pushes the thought away - they should really go on at least one date before he starts thinking about labels - and slings his arm over Ryan. The tiny Bigfoot is perched on Ryan’s shoulder as Shane squeaks out his best mini squatch voice.

“You know, little guy, your friend Shane is really excited to take you out! He wants to get dressed up and go somewhere nice, really wine you and dine you! I think you should take him up on it!” The plush surges forward to boop Ryan squarely in the nose before falling into his lap. Ryan giggles, and when he meets Shane’s eyes, a wave of comfort and excitement washes over him. His gaze drifts down to Shane’s lips, and for once, Shane picks up on the cue. Taking Ryan’s chin in one hand, the other arm still wrapped around his shoulders, he pulls him in close and lets their lips brush together. Shane smells like laundry detergent and chapstick, and Ryan is immediately intoxicated. When they finally pull apart, resting foreheads together, they’re both flushed and smiling.

“It’s a date, big guy.”

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.amazon.com/Squishable-Mini-Bigfoot-Plush-7/dp/B00VB3JX0I/
> 
> Here's a link to the aforementioned Bigfoot plushie! Not a sponsor. ;)


End file.
